The Right Page
by AuroraJames04
Summary: She smiled that fake smile that he suddenly realized he hated. Did she truly dislike Betty for the childish crush he'd had on her eons ago? No… he reasoned. It was the way Betty seemed to speak to Cindy that spoke for her body language. Betty thought she was better. And it was for the first time that Jimmy realized with a strange tug on his heart, he didn't agree. (High School AU)
1. Chapter 1

Summary:

She smiled that fake smile that he suddenly realized he hated. _Did she truly dislike Betty for the childish crush he'd had on her eons ago? No…_ he reasoned. It was the way Betty seemed to speak to Cindy that spoke for her body language. **Betty thought she was better**. And it was for the first time that Jimmy realized with a strange tug on his heart, he _didn't _agree. (High School AU)

Disclaimer—I don't own Jimmy Neutron or any of the Nickelodeon characters just my own OC

A/N: High school AU if I had to put an age range, I'd say around 17 years old. This is a Cindy/Jimmy alternating POV. I also realize that it may be a little OOC (especially Jimmy) but in most of my stories I try to imagine a more mature dynamic between JxC. This is also a very detailed piece because I rely a lot on body language, and inner dialogue.

He was staring at her. She could feel it as her own eyes bore into her Advanced Placement Literature textbook. He was always staring at her during this class. It wasn't new but it still unnerved her, just as it had the first time she caught him. Now and after the 6th or so time he did it openly…and it baffled her.

She wasn't sure exactly why he did. Maybe it was because it was the only class he really had no interest in. He hadn't changed much since they were children. He had no patience for the arts. They had practically the same schedule, save for an elective here or there.

In Chemistry she sat two rows behind him. In Trigonometry she sat in the front, he in the corner. In AP History, she was in the middle and he by the door. But here, here he sat right next to her.

It wasn't alphabetical. He could have sat next to her in every class, had he _wanted_ too. And in that respect he didn't_ have_ to sit next to her in this one. But he had. She'd been sitting, the first day of the semester already in her own desk now, arranging her books and her notepad, when he'd strolled in and unceremoniously dropped himself in the chair across from hers. She hadn't even time to process it before he continued a clipped argument they'd been starting two periods beforehand. The seating arrangement was forgotten, pattern became a habit, and now he sat next to her.

It was a few days in that she felt his gaze. And she hadn't even been speaking. However to be fair she did talk **a lot** in this class. It was her favorite. The writing captivated her. She was passionate about the authors, the poems, even the plays they read.

They didn't fight as much as they did in grade school. A snide comment here in Chemistry, a scoff or two in Latin, a glare once in French. But they certainly didn't openly **gawk **at one another either. _Well at least she tried not too_. Ms. Payette would notice from time to time. And she'd call on Jimmy to answer even though he wasn't even on the right page_. Literally_. He'd pull off a passing response and she'd let him be.

Afterwards he'd go back to studying her. She wondered what he could possibly be thinking. Sometimes he seemed lost in thought but others, days like today—he seemed as if he'd stumbled across a particularly interesting new fact, one he was mulling over while side eying her. Ms. Payette spoke now, and Cindy turned her attention to her teacher at the board.

"Don't forget, your peer editing assignment is due next Tuesday, I don't care who you partner up with, but no groups of three please."

The bell rang jolting her from her thoughts and she gathered her belongs and waited for him to get up and leave. When he didn't she finally met his eye.

"I'll never understand how you can correctly name the line and the meter of a Shakespeare sonnet while being open to the _Canterbury Tales_. "

"Eidetic memory."

"Of course" she said still not moving to stand but rolling her eyes.

"You like that poem?"

He wasn't specific, they'd read at least seven just this period but he didn't need to be. She liked them all.

"I do. I'm guessing you find fault with it, like you do all of what we read."

"Not all," he corrected.

"Excuse me then." She was going to be late.

"We" _shit _she cursed in her head "should get to Chem."

He nodded and with that he rose but he seemed to be waiting on her to do the same. _What is he doing_? She wondered, and then it dawned on her…_he wants to walk out of class with me? _

She fell in step beside him feeling only slightly uncomfortable. Libby who was by her locker stopped to give her a puzzled but encouraging look. Cindy nodded back at her, and stopped to retrieve her books.

"How are you?" She asked having sidled up closer when Cindy had her head in her locker.

"Well Neutron—" she began but was startled to find Jimmy had stopped walking to class as she expected and was leaning against the locker next to hers fiddling with his watch. As if this were a **natural** occurrence.

The warning bell rang and she grabbed her books and gave Libby a look that she hoped read, "I'm just as confused as you are" and began hurrying to class, with him in tow. They of course arrived at the same time and she was met with even more surprise as he backed up slightly so she could go in first. Not that he wasn't a _nice_ guy. If she thought about it…he did usually let her go first. Or in front of. She was an instigator. She knew it. But he followed her. So it was** his** fault when they argued.

"Thanks."

He chuckled softly and moved to go to his seat. She felt a wave of disappointment and relief flood over her at once as she made her way to her own table. Class passed without incident. But it was she who found herself silently wearing a hole in the back of his head. He was in his element. And even though she'd never ever even allow herself to think it: _she liked him in his element_.

When the lunch bell rang, she looked up to find him by the door; he met her with a stare and with a jerk of his head motioned for her to "come on." She found her feet moving across the tile and out the door to again be walking side by side with James Neutron. He didn't speak to her and she was afraid to break the spell of silence. But when they entered the lunchroom, the dull roar of their classmates drowned it out.

Sheen waved at them from her left and she quickly paced to their table, if only to see Libby. Sliding into the seat across from her, she felt her face go slightly pink as he swung one leg over the bench next to hers. He immediately became swept up in a debate between Carl and Sheen that seemed to her like it would take a while. Libby was looking at her now with more curiosity and intrigue than this morning. Cindy wanted desperately to wipe the grin off her best friend's face, but she also had no explanation for Jimmy's albeit **pleasant **but odd behavior either.

_What is with him today?_ She thought. He'd asked her if she liked something, walked with her to and from class, and was now openly sitting next to her on their lunch bench; _quite close_ in fact.

"Cindy?"

"What?" She asked jerked from her own thoughts. Betty Quinlan was now standing at the front of her lunch table with a clipboard in her hand.

"Do you still want to be a part of the committee for formal next month, Mr. Roberts wanted me to ask everyone who was on it for homecoming in the fall."

Cindy eyed her wearily and a bit angrily. She didn't despise Betty like she did in the 6th grade but she wasn't president of her fan club either. Especially with her looking at Jimmy like that.

Even Cindy had to admit, she couldn't really blame Betty. Puberty had been kind to all three of the guys, but Jimmy in particular. He'd filled out, grown considerably and started putting more effort into his style. His hair had grown out and now into a messy mop. Of course he still had his dazzling blue eyes and arrogant smirk that Cindy couldn't help but admire.

"Yeah, sure" she replied extending her hand out for the board while checking Jimmy out of the corner of her eye. He gave no inclination that he even knew Betty was standing there. While whatever nonsense debate he'd been refereeing with Carl and Sheen came to an end he seemed to be bringing back his attention to…_her?_

"What's that?" he asked curiously looking at the board on the table as she scribbled her signature.

"Formal committee" she said dismissively waiting for him to look up and admire Ms. Perfect.

"You should join Jimmy." Betty said suddenly and he finally did look up at her. "It would be fun and we could always use your help with lights and effects, you know like the old days" she laughed and batted her long eyelashes.

"Maybe" he offered her. But made no effort to take the pen from Cindy's hand.

What he did next almost made Cindy Vortex fall backwards off the bench.

"Done?" He asked her before gently taking the board from her hand and handing it back to Betty. If the act itself didn't cause her to go into cardiac arrest it was how his fingers brushed against hers in an all _so innocent way._

"Oh well thanks" Betty said rather breathlessly before quickly making her awkward exit.

Finally Cindy could take no more.

"What. The. Hell. Was. That?"

"What was what?" He asked his tone dripping with feigned innocence and suppressed amusement.

"This. All this morning, the walking me to class, the sitting next to me—the Betty thing!"

"We have the same class, was it that an absurd of a notion that we might walk to and from it together?"

"Maybe not, but it's not like you _asked _me or anything." She grumbled looking to Libby for help, who mercifully began a conversation with Sheen loud enough to at least give her the illusion of privacy.

Now he looked downright smug. "My apologies, Ms. Vortex, I wasn't aware you needed me to ask permission to now be in your immediate presence."

"Well—"

"May I then?"

"What?" She stammered.

"May I continue to sit beside you?"

"Uh… yeah" she agreed lamely.

"Good."

"And the Betty thing—" She hedged.

"I have no desire to be on any kind of formal committee."

"No" she bit back impatiently. "I've never seen you _not _ogle her like she's a beauty contestant and you're the one man judge."

With that he snorted "well then you haven't been paying much attention lately have you?"

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Her voice rising as the familiar tug of anger pulled on her.

"I haven't ogled Betty Quinlan since the 9th grade when she couldn't tell Ms. Batson what the chemical name of salt was. Salt Cindy."

XXXXXXX

It had started in Ms. Payette's AP Literature lecture. _Or._ It had started **years **ago. When they were mere children competing over grade school titles and long played out stereotypes.

He'd raced in and sought her out like a moth to flame. Sliding into the seat directly across from her put her in his direct line of sight. Something he realized rather early on hadn't occurred since they were the same children.

As he sat half listening to Ms. Payette croon on, he was surrounded by memories.

Their trip to Egypt.

The intergalactic game show they'd been forced contestants on.

Mars.

_Their own private island_.

He tried to steal glances at her discreetly. She was often distracted by the lesson anyhow. She was in her element. And in _her element_ she was ever so _intriguing._

Ms. Payette had called on him hoping to return his attention back to the material at hand, he'd obliged but not before seeing Cindy's small yet soft smile. She turned her face away and into her palm before composing her features. She was amused by him, but wanted to remain indifferent. Without knowing, or really meaning too, Jimmy began a mental bullet list of observations he obtained from being a spectator instead of a student.

Truthfully, Cindy hadn't changed much.

She still tapped her leg when she knew the answer but was refraining from participating in the group discussion.

She still took diligent notes, even though he was quite sure _she knew_ almost all of this stuff anyhow.

She still tapped the tip of her pen to her lip when she was deeply thinking about something.

And sometimes out of the corner of her eye, she'd look at him.

It was on the third day that he found he was looking forward to AP Literature. Walking to class, he felt a small bubble of anticipation well up in his stomach.

_Since when do I have the time or want for poetry? _He thought exasperatedly. He was about to walk through the doorway when a familiar blonde ponytail swung into his field of vision and with it returned the glow of _excitement._

"Vortex." He quickly swept over her appearance before making eye contact and giving her a small nod. She was wearing jeans, her favorites he suspected, as she seemed to cater to this pair more than her others _not that he noticed_. She donned a simple army green hoodie, and her bag slung over her shoulder. Her hair that now fell to her back was up today, and with it, it brought the sweet swell of nostalgia.

She nodded back, but gave no further acknowledgement. Her eyes, he suddenly noticed were red and a bit glossy, as if she'd been crying. _Vortex doesn't cry_. He reasoned quickly. But there was something about her very nature that day that made him pause. Turning to the side and gesturing to the frame he indicated that she should pass him.

He followed her to their seats. As he plopped into his own, he watched her distractedly do the same. She was there, but her mind was somewhere else, and he glanced at her with growing fascination. More students began to fill the seats beside and around them. A girl who sat three rows away from them, Kasey or Cassie (Jimmy couldn't be bothered to remember) sidled up quickly to her. Wordlessly she dropped a note onto Cindy's desk.

Jimmy didn't write notes. He didn't receive notes either. But he was familiar with the concept, and it was a fairly practiced hobby between the opposite sex. In fact, he'd witnessed Cindy get her own fair share of them over their identical schedules. This one, he reasoned must be different.

She didn't tear it open right away. In all actuality it looked more like the scrap of paper might bite her, than she was to read it.

Curiosity, and perhaps downright _insanity_ caused him to question her.

"Looks like you've got mail."

She looked at him darkly.

He held up his hands in a surrender pose. "Bad news?"

"Maybe" She finally acknowledged as she began to turn the piece of notebook between two fingers.

"Who is it from?" He asked as he began to feign interest in flipping his textbook open to where they'd left off in class yesterday.

"I think it's from Julianne."

He frowned briefly. She was a tall, red headed girl a year above them and she seemed to hold some sort of high rank in Cindy's social circle. He had seen her and Cindy walk to yearbook club or whatever committee it was that Cindy seemed to find extra time to do.

"Don't you like her?"

She huffed at him impatiently.

"I don't _like_ anyone from dance committee."

"Dance committee?" He asked her incredulously. There were times, _more and more recently _that Jimmy had noted similarities in Cindy and his interests.

But why on earth she'd waste her time on organizing a school function as mundane as a dance he didn't know. _Now the science fair…_ he mused.

"Is that why you haven't opened it?"

She opened her mouth to retort or perhaps answer but was interrupted by the bell. Ms. Payette began to scribble quotes on the board and the class frantically began to copy. She flipped her own notebook open and turned her attention from him towards the lesson.

He felt a small twinge of something, as he watched her out of the corner of his eye. _What is that? Jealously? Because she's more intrigued in this charade of an educational standard than me? Nonsense. _He thought. _She loves this class_.

_She loves this class. _He thought more. Not fully acknowledging that he even showed enough interest in her daily to know her likes and dislikes. But he did. And he realized with stubborn angst, _I __**enjoy**__ being near her during it. _In their other subjects, he was primarily concerned with the material at hand, and of course being the very best. But here, where he simply couldn't care less and resolutely knew he'd never surpass her creativity, he studied her. And she had certainly become a rather _fascinating_ subject.

The period went by quickly. The class copied notes, read a loud from the text and tried to analyze what Jimmy assumed was a difficult passage. Jimmy watched as a few minutes to the bell, she carefully unfolded the note and began to scan it.

Her posture changed. She bowed her head and folded the paper over before shoving it into her bag on the floor. Sitting back up, she accidentally caught his eye. Breaking contact off quickly she stared straight ahead at the board and the clock. But Jimmy could see it all. _She's upset_. Whatever this Julianne girl had wrote, bothered her. And in turn _that bothered him._

At the bell's shrill signal she was out of her seat and into the hallway before he could question her further. As he began to walk to Chemistry he stopped. At Cindy's locker were Cindy, Julianne and _Betty Quinlan_.

He'd read and memorized his entire Chemistry book; therefore he didn't _need_ to stop at his locker. But he theorized, he was following through on an "experiment." As casually as he could he strolled to his own locker a few feet down from her. By the time he'd managed to get it open this Julianne girl had already walked off. Spying her he watched as Betty turned her full attention on Cindy.

A few years back, Jimmy would have dropped dead to see Cindy and Betty having any kind of _typical_ female interaction. But now—he realized it had become rare but commonplace. They were by no means friends. He **knew** that. But they ran in the same school social circle. He couldn't make out their conversation, but he found watching them to be even more intriguing. Cindy stood up straightener in front of her; there was an air of forced confidence that Jimmy could see right through.

She smiled that fake smile that he suddenly realized he hated. _Did she truly dislike Betty for the childish crush he'd had on her eons ago? No…_ he reasoned. It was the way Betty seemed to speak to Cindy that spoke for her body language. **Betty thought she was better**. And it was for the first time that Jimmy realized with a strange tug on his heart, he _didn't _agree.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer—I don't own Jimmy Neutron or any of the Nickelodeon characters just my own OC

It had gone on like this for—a few weeks now. He discovered. He never said much to her, and often when he did, he didn't get much in response. But every time he did, he noticed she seemed more receptive to his approach.

Then came the day he was simply more lost in thought than usual and he hadn't heard the bell.

"_I'll never understand how you can correctly name the line and the meter of a Shakespeare sonnet while being open to the Canterbury Tales. "_

"_Eidetic memory." He had replied, not at all prepared for how entirely thrilled he was that she was speaking to him. _

"_Of course" she said and rolled her eyes, as if this conversation they'd barely begun was already a waste of her time. _

_Desperate to continue whatever this was he asked "you like that poem?" _

Before he knew it they were walking to class along side one another, something he certainly wasn't opposed too. He found the atmosphere surrounding them in the hallway to contrast with how he felt during AP Lit. There was a confidence about her there, that he now saw she was lacking in the halls, surrounded by their peers.

_When had she begun to cower like that? _He wondered_. Or was it simply his presence that threw her off her game? _He'd stood up after the end of class and taking a deep breath, took a deeper risk. He jerked his head at her, a move that 5 or so years ago would have gotten his ass kicked. But much to his surprise and terrifying delight…she followed him.

So he'd pushed his luck. He hadn't been planning on remaining this close to her but he felt pulled in, as if they were some kind magnetic pull. He'd existed outside her real zone of familiarity since they'd started high school. They had moments—sure where he'd once again feel the fire ignite under their old rivalry. But now they were more cordial… polite. As he swung his leg over the bench and remained near her, he found himself reveling in his decision. He _wanted_ to be next to her. Even if they didn't speak.

Carl and Sheen were at it once again, the age old Ultra Lord versus llamas debate. And when he was finally able to pay attention to the sights around him, he found them with an extra body.

He hadn't heard her approach, but when she spoke he felt Cindy stiffen ever so subtlety. An unfamiliar rush of emotion surged through him and he immediately went on the defense. In a show of he wasn't _entirely sure_, protection, and perhaps _loyalty_ he paid Cindy his attention _first_.

As he handed the clipboard back to Betty his insides thrashed uncomfortably. She was looking at him, as he'd always imagined she would in his youth. But now he understood, this wasn't for him. This was for Cindy—he was only a puppet in the show. So he tried to put as much meaning and emphasis into that one "maybe" he mustered up at her attempt to get his attention.

It had worked, that is until he had to answer for his albeit **drastically** different behavior.

_With that he snorted "well then you haven't been paying attention much lately have you?"_

"_And what's that supposed to mean?" Her voice rising, filled with tension, and he once more felt the spark light underneath their friendly façade. _

"_I haven't ogled Betty Quinlan since the 9__th__ grade when she couldn't tell Ms. Batson what the chemical name of salt was. Salt Cindy." _

XXXXX

Why did she need to come over and ask you to sign that stupid thing if you're meeting after school anyway? Libby asked effectively breaking up whatever argument had been brewing between them.

Libby, Carl and even Sheen had become experts over the years. Allowing Jimmy and Cindy just enough time to interact was key—too much and they'd be sure to talk about something more meaningful than the weather.

"How should I know?" she'd finally, sighed. She wasn't sure but she felt like the dynamic between her and Jimmy had shifted. Something was tugging on her, a familiar urge that she'd_ thought_ she repressed eons ago. She wanted to push his buttons, but more importantly **she wanted his attention**.

"You said maybe."

"Hmm?" He asked, this time actually looking a little lost.

"You said maybe you'd join. You didn't say no."

"I want to keep my options open."

"So you'd actually join the dance committee and plan for formal because Betty Quinlan asked you too?"

"Not if Betty Quinlan asked me too." He answered slyly.

"You hate dance committee." She sniped.

"Well I wouldn't actually know if I do, since I've never partaken. But sure, that's a probable hypothesis." He responded logically, now looking bored with this conversation.

"So why would you want to keep your options open then?" She pressed.

He looked over at her, and then at their friends who satisfied that neither Cindy nor Jimmy was going to throttle the other became engaged again in their own conversation. He cleared his throat… looking around once more, and instinctually she leaned in closer.

"Are we still talking about the dance committee Vortex?"

Blushing she reeled back and away from him. She hated how he could do that. Turn an argument into another conversation completely…a conversation that the two had been avoiding for years now.

"Sure—yeah I am."

"Well, you don't have to worry" he hedged. "I have no immediate future plans that involve me signing up for any committee."

"Fine." She replied, and tried to return her attention to Libby and the guys. The lunchroom felt very hot, and seriously crowded today.

She slipped easily back into a conversation with Libby about after school plans.

"So should I pick you up at 4:30? We can go to the mall, I think that black skirt I saw at H&M is probably on sale by now." Libby asked.

Cindy was about to reply when she saw Jimmy open his mouth, and incredibly begin to speak.

"Wait, what about the peer editing assignment?" Turning his body away from her, he looked Libby in the eye as he continued, "Payette paired us up."

_Okay she definitely did not_.

However instead of disagreeing with him, she found herself_ insanely_ going along with it.

"Yeah, that's right." She said nodding. He turned back then and beamed at her. She blushed from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. _I have no idea what has gotten into him lately—but I think I might like it_. She decided she might try her hand at this new game they were playing.

"You're picking me up right?" She asked him, making direct eye contact hoping to watch him squirm. He didn't look uncomfortable or awkward as she expected, _no _she mused he looked **pleased.**

"By the gym?"

"Mhmn."

Neither one noticed how Carl, Sheen and Libby had quietly watched this exchange. Jimmy and Cindy often discussed homework, or tests. They had nearly identical schedules. There wasn't usually too much squabbling done, more commiserating than anything. It was normal. But working together on something—this wasn't _nearly _as typical.

"So…the two of you are going to edit each other's work?" Carl asked feeling an awful lot like he missed something.

"That's what peer editing is Carl." Cindy replied, of course they weren't going to just let this slide.

"But…it's English Jim." Sheen interrupted. "Cindy is better than you in English."

"We have the same grade actually." He said smoothly, "down to the decimal point."

Cindy huffed, but took the little victory. There was a time when he wouldn't have even agreed that she was in his league.

"That's probably why Payette paired us up."

She had no idea what possessed her to say it. She could just let it lie. They seemed to have accepted this change of events. Surely Jimmy or Cindy would never go against a teacher's wishes. She watched him stiffen. He hadn't been prepared for any follow up on her end. He thought she'd let him off the hook. She saw him slowly smile. It was a look she'd seen before, she realized. When he was staring down a challenge, something they had in common.

They _loved_ a challenge.

"I wouldn't underestimate Payette. The woman may have questionable teaching methods but it allows her more perspective, I suppose. She probably sees something we don't."

"Why do you sound like a fortune cookie dude?" Sheen interrupted, looking in between the two.

"I meant in our papers. We both wrote about Whitman."

_How does he know? _She wondered. She had many favorite poets but Whitman had really caught her eye as of late.

Mercifully, the bell rang, saving them from any more interrogating for the moment.

"So…the gym 4:30?"

"Yeah, sure." She answered. Getting to her feet. They would see one another in History their second to last period, but she doubted they would talk. She was off to gym now with Libby, where she was sure she'd have much more to answer too.

For now, she watched him walk off. He stopped slightly before the catwalk as if he sensed she was staring after him. He didn't wave or even smile, he just stared back but his deep blue eyes were dancing.

XXXXX

"_Are we still talking about the dance committee Vortex?" _He hadn't wanted to scare her off; he was merely _testing the waters_. _But_ he acknowledged _it must mean something that I made her blush like that. _

He often tried to trip Cindy up like that. Changing the conversation completely on her, while in an argument usually worked to his favor. Cindy had a quick wit, and a quicker tongue. She could go up one side of him and down the other _had she really wanted too_. But she didn't appear to want to as of late. Most of their short exchanges were pleasant but_ exceedingly_ boring.

Truthfully he'd gone a long while before signaling her out. And he couldn't remember the last time he went out of his way to intentionally tease her. _Okay he was flirting with her. _

So just like he had been doing all day—he pushed his luck. Creating a scenario out of thin air and essentially deciding that all parties involved would **simply go along with it** was a risky move. Especially when those parties involved were Cindy Vortex.

_Miraculously she had. _He couldn't help the 'pleased as punch' grin that had spread across his face. She of course knew that the assignment was a bogus excuse to—_what exactly? Hang out with each other?_ He hadn't thought that far along. He just knew he'd seen an opening, and went for it. And it had been going along _so_ smoothly. But he knew she would only cooperate so far.

"_I wouldn't underestimate Payette. The woman has questionable teaching methods but it allows her more perspective, I suppose. She probably sees something we don't." _he'd thought quickly on his feet. He'd tried to make his answer just vague and disinterested enough to throw Carl and Sheen off the track. But give her enough of an answer that'd she'd hopefully read between the lines. Even better yet—the look of surprise and pleasure that he'd not only known she'd wrote about Whitman, but he wrote about him too. _She's pleased. _He mused.

So now under the guise of this assignment he'd be viewing and interacting with his subject outside of school grounds. He couldn't remember when the last time they'd hung out alone was. There had been a weird but fond time between the end of middle school and freshmen year when he thought _maybe we're meant to be something._

He'd gone to her 14th birthday party. And when he was leaving, she'd kissed him. Absently he touched his fingertips to his lips. At the time he remembered being confused, not displeased but not sure where to go from there. He'd liked her for—forever really. As time passed and he'd failed to make a move, she moved on.

So he'd forced whatever residual 'overly friendly' feelings he might have for her into a box. Then he locked the box and threw away the key. **Supposedly.**

But here were these _feelings_ back again. _Why couldn't he just leave her alone?_ He wondered as he sat in Intro to Graphic Design, an elective he needed for some credit. He was dragging something back up to the surface, and he had been since he'd decided to sit next to her weeks ago in AP Lit. _What was it that he ultimately wanted?_ He thought, and suddenly he was right back in her backyard reliving his first real kiss.

_Well that's just—shit_ he thought as he stared out the window. He was in for an interesting evening.

XXXX

"So you really don't think it's going to be even slightly weird to work with him?"

Libby asked for the third time.

Cindy was attempting to fake nonchalance. _Maybe_ if her best friend didn't think she was freaking out, she wouldn't be freaking out.

"Honestly Libby, it's not ideal but I could have gotten a worse partner."

She was freaking out.

"I guess that's true." Libby agreed while shoving her gym clothes back into her locker after an exhaustive game of badminton.

Kasey appeared around the corner. "I heard you're working with Neutron on our peer editing assignment."

_Please don't mention we weren't assigned partners_ she thought.

"Yeah, well we both wrote about Whitman, it makes sense."

"Sure" Kasey replied and smiled, "You should be able to have plenty of time to talk to him for Betty."

_Shit. _She'd forgotten momentarily in all the chaos and surprise editing partners the note she'd gotten from Julianne a few weeks ago about Cindy _paying her dues_. Cindy was one of the popular girls in Retroville High now, or at least she was making her way up to be. Betty, a lifetime member of the circle, wanted something, and it was time for Cindy to produce. It was only slightly—_horrifically humiliating_ that what Betty wanted was Cindy's heart. And the not so subtle hints that were beginning to become slightly aggressive. She hadn't necessarily agreed to do it. But over the past week and half Betty and her crew had been wearing her down, convincing her that she should put her own feelings aside. If Jimmy had wanted her, he would have done something about it two years ago—or any day since. He hadn't.

In fact the most he'd done was to sit next to her in one of the five classes they shared. _Except for today._ Today suddenly he seemed to be _all about her_ and while she was beginning to really **allow **herself to enjoy it, it was a little flabbergasting.

"Yeah, I'll try." She managed, all the while feeling Libby's eyes boring into the back of her skull.

They left the locker room quickly and quietly. Neither said a word to the other until they were at her locker. As she bent in to get her History book, Libby's voice cut across her like a knife.

"What does Bimbo Betty have to say that's so important she can't do it herself?"

"I think they're hoping the act itself will be so mortifying for me, I'll be easier to boss around during committee meetings." She answered truthfully.

"Cindy—"Libby said slowly. Looking at her best friend with growing concern. She'd noticed a distance between the two of them lately. Cindy had begun to hang around girls like Kasey, Julianne, and even Betty. Libby wasn't sure how or when the change had begun taking place but it was like watching a flower wilt into itself.

"Cindy, what exactly is it that Betty wants you to do?"

Cindy seemed to look everywhere but at her best friend standing supportively with her hand on her shoulder.

"She wants me to set them up. Says I can convince him to go out with her, since we are sort of friends."

"Girl that's crazy. You can't be thinking of doing it. What about—you know?"

"I'm over it." Cindy chirped back automatically.

"You don't look over anything too me. In fact you both look pretty into whatever has been going on around here." She spit back, while gesturing vaguely in front of her.

Cindy blushed but looked at Libby curiously.

"Come on? You can't see it?"

"See what?" She asked slowly not sure if she wanted to know the answer.

"Look there's always been something brewing between you two. Don't play _completely_ stupid. But every day for _like the past two months_ that boy has been eyeing you."

"No, he hasn't."

"Yes," she paused "he has. I thought before it was a little creepy. It was like whenever we were all hanging out together, but it was like discreet, except for all this week he's been looking at you with doe eyes and an _even stupider_ look on his face than you have right now."

Cindy laughed a little but turned redder.

"I doubt he even realizes it. And then he made up that lame excuse to work with you…"

"You knew about that!" Cindy half yelled and then looked around quickly.

"Of course I did." Libby laughed. "I doubt the guys caught on or really care either way. "

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Libby shrugged. "I figured it was your business, you'd let me in on it eventually. I was just hoping you guys would have figured _whatever_ you've started _again_ out.

"We haven't **ever **started anything…" Cindy hedged.

"Yes, you have. Two years ago, you finally made a move but he was too chicken shit to reciprocate."

Cindy cringed—she hated that memory for that very reason. Nothing had ever come of it. They'd hung in this weird limbo until it had gotten too awkward _to_ do anything about.

"Maybe he's finally making his move."

"I doubt that very much."

"What's that?" He asked appearing suddenly off to her left and launching himself into the middle of their conversation.

She threw him a look that read '_get lost' _because she knew (up until recently _apparently_) that strategy usually worked. He hadn't wanted to know bad enough, or he didn't think she'd include him anyhow.

At first it looked like it might work today too, but he spun on his heel and backtracked towards them.

"Aren't you coming?" He asked her, they had History now.

Libby scoffed and threw her an 'I told you so' look.

"What makes you think I need an escort around school now?" She jested back genuinely baffled that he hadn't given up yet.

He hesitated for a moment.

"I'm asking for your immediate permission then."

"What?" She asked, now—entirely dumbfounded.

"You said earlier that I never asked to walk you to class right?" At this she nodded numbly. "So now I'm asking you."

Libby had the decency to back up slowly and turn as though nothing was amiss. Act as if everything is normal and maybe she didn't just witness the earth going the opposite way on its axis.

"To walk to class with you?"

"Yeah. Come on, we're going to be late—" he continued when he saw she hadn't moved from her spot.

"Or," He hedged "I can just…"

"No, no it's fine." She said finally, and slamming her locker door. This time when she fell in step beside him she was reminded of their youth.

She used to secretly love to walk beside him. To stand next to him, when they were on common ground, working toward the same goal, fighting the same enemy. He made her feel powerful, he made her feel brave. She wasn't afraid when she stood beside him.

She wasn't afraid to stand beside him now. She just didn't do it often. He'd really grown. He towered over her now, but it wasn't until she allowed herself to get close to him that she noticed it. He wasn't like other guys. He didn't try and intimidate her by his size.

He respected her physical space she realized. While he may be in the habit of making decisions for her often because he thought _he knew best_, he never tried to overpower or control her. Even now, he'd kept a respectable distance between them. He was close enough that if she wanted to reach out and hold his hand, _she certainly could._ The thought made her blush.

When they walked into class they kept up the same routine as before. He'd sat down in his seat and she'd gone to hers. Now though, she had afternoon plans.

She was _certainly in for an unusual evening_ she thought, smiling hopefully to herself.

4:28, 4:29….

She stared hard at her watch; both exhilarated and terrified at what was to come next.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: I still own pretty much nothing. For those of you following and reading this story thank you so much for the amazing feedback. I'm not sure how many more chapters this story will have but I'll continue to update as much and as soon as possible.

He had no idea what he was doing. Perched, precariously in his father's old station wagon he stared down anxiously at his watch, 4:25 p.m. He had exactly five minutes to get his act together and drive over from the student parking lot to the gymnasium entrance where, his next door neighbor and AP English Lit partner would be waiting, prompt as ever.

Really, he had no idea what he was doing.

Even still—he couldn't find it in him to regret this current turn of events.

When he'd brought it up earlier at lunch, it was a half formed thought, born on a sudden and desperate need to spend _more _time with his arch rival, he _never _anticipated she'd actually go along with it.

But here he was. Staring down the immediate and rapidly approaching future, where he'd be spending the afternoon, with the pretext of working on a peer editing assignment of course—with Cindy Vortex.

He put the car in drive and turned around to the gym parking lot. He pulled around the half circle outside the entrance, and tried not to watch the doors. He was adjusting his side mirror when he heard the click of the passenger side door, and smelled her perfume gently waft through the car and into his senses.

"Hi." She said softly and almost shyly, swinging her bag into the back seat she smiled and peered at him curiously. "You okay?"

_Crap_, he thought, he was staring at her again. It was his newest and most unwelcome _bad habit_.

"Yeah, sorry just thinking of a model of something I've been working on." He supplied hastily—turning red as he realized he'd actually _apologized_ to Cindy Vortex.

"It's fine." She answered, and continued looking out the window. She seemed to be contemplating something and Jimmy was about to ask her when he stopped himself.

_Let her come out with whatever she has to say on her own_ he thought. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, and he reveled how even under the pretense of something so mundane as homework, they could function effectively, and rather nicely.

One of Jimmy's biggest (and secret) pet peeves was when their peers, friends and especially academic overseers remarked that: Jimmy and Cindy did not work well together. _When in reality_ Jimmy thought, _nothing could be farther from the truth._

In reality, they worked brilliantly together; _they just had to want too_.

As he pulled up to his house, another swell of nostalgia hit him. Cindy hadn't been in the lab in eons, and even farther back still when she'd been _unaccompanied._ He quickly shook those thoughts from his head, reminding himself that nothing had ever happened, **there anyway** between them.

She might have been thinking of something on a similar wavelength to him—for she stopped mid stride to the old club house and stared fondly at it for a moment.

"Does the roof still open up for your impromptu take offs?" She asked wistfully and he smiled coyly as he leaned forward and let the machine scan his retina, unfortunately for him he'd forgotten about Vox's updated sensor and she immediately picked up on Cindy's presence.

"Touch to confirm additional personas accompanying James I. Neutron: Cynthia A. Vortex DNA match detected" She chirped out automatically. And he hastily agreed to his own security precautions before she had a chance to be outraged that he somehow had her DNA programmed into his computer—as they two tumbled down into his underground oasis.

XXXX

He'd offered her his hand as he stood up, and she accepted, allowing his touch to pull her upwards. He steadied her on her feet for a moment but held her hand for a second longer than was necessary, dropping contact with her, he strode away, further into his fortress, allowing Cindy a much needed minute to _marvel_.

It had been ages since the gang had, had a real Jimmy Neutron style adventure. Truthfully, Cindy couldn't remember the exact last time she'd been allowed in Neutron's lab but she tried not to dwell on it—it was probably an unpleasant memory. After looking around some she followed the continuous clicking of what she assumed was his keyboard, into the main area, the space she had spent much of her time here in her youth. He looked up at her quickly but bent his head back down to whatever was currently occupying his attention; it looked to Cindy like he was entering data into a spreadsheet.

"What are you—" She began but he held his hand up in a gesture that undoubtedly made Cindy cross and reminiscent of her childhood. Nothing annoyed her more than him telling her _to wait._

She was about to remind him of this particular fact (none too quietly) when he quickly saved whatever numbers he'd been pouring over moments ago, and closed the window, shutting down the distraction, and landing his attention solely on her. She fidgeted uncomfortably.

Deciding now was as good a time as any to bring up over what she'd been pondering about in the car, she blurted out something else she'd been mulling over, _almost _as much as she'd been thinking about _them_ working together in the first place.

"How did you know I had written about Walt Whitman?"

"Excuse me?" He asked, his expression quickly morphing, and if Cindy didn't know his myriad of expressions as well as she knew the ones she saw in the mirror she _might_ have bought the "confused yet interested" facial ticks. He was clearly stalling.

"In the cafeteria, when you paired us up, you said we both wrote about Whitman." She supplied, watching him carefully. "I was wondering how you knew that."

"Well actually—" He trailed off before meeting her eye. "It was just a guess. I know he's been one of your favorites lately. So I assumed—"

"How do you know he's one of my favorites?" She interrupted impatiently.

"Because…" Jimmy said while rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. The gesture so familiar to Cindy it made her heart ache. "Because you always doodle in the margins of poems, and pieces you really like. And I'd venture to guess you've marked up your entire copy of _Leaves of Grass_.

Blushing, Cindy found herself not for the first time—today dumbstruck. She was prepared to sound indignant, or at least self-assured but instead all she managed to squeak out was " and you notice things like that?"

"Not all the time, not for…everyone." He said slowly and carefully as though he was speaking to a young child or a slightly unstable psychiatry patient.

"Me?"

"Well, I am seated directly across from you, Vortex. " He bit out impatiently, however he reminded Cindy of another fact she'd been slightly obsessing over for weeks now.

"You do, "She said, adopting his slow and smooth tone. "Why is that?" Anticipating the follow up question, she continued on _caution be damned_. "Why did you sit next to me, in Lit anyhow?" Cindy asked trying to remain aloof in the threat of his impending response.

"I wanted too," He answered simply. Looking at her openly without pretense. He surprised himself with his honesty. But realty, it couldn't be that much of a shock to her_. Right?_

Still she felt herself, growing rather warm, and the sensation not entirely uncomfortable.

"We were arguing" she reflexively supplied as if they could both hide behind _that_ excuse for their_ prolonged_ interaction.

So quietly she almost thought she'd imagined it he replied, "Not the next day."

XXXX

"_I wanted too." _

His own response on repeat in his mind, as he watched the enchanting girl from across the way try and puzzle out, what possible illegal substance Jimmy might be on. Her features soon relaxed though, as if a tiny part of her had been in fact, hoping for this answer to her inquiry. If he was being truly and entirely honest with her, and **himself **he was sure the answer to most of her questions regarding _their situation_ could be given the same way.

"_I wanted too." _

"_Why did he sit next to her in the first place? _

_Why would he trouble himself to know whom her favorite authors and works of literature they were studying? _

_Why would he also…purposely write on the same material she was, _when there no chance she'd ever even know, _or see him best her in it? _

_Why… why on earth would he partner them up for a project without consulting her, with the hopes that she'd simply go along with it _and he'd end up in this exact—wonderful position he was in now.

"I wanted too." He repeated, with more confidence and walked over to the futon situated against one of the far walls, bringing his backpack and paper with him. She followed his lead, and sat with a respectable amount of distance between them as she too pulled out her lifeline, and ticket into the lab in the first place.

He wasn't sure if she was going to drop it—in fact it looked a bit like she was chewing her tongue before she answered.

"I'm glad you did."

_What did she say_?

_She was glad—she had wanted to be his peer-editing partner? _

"Then why didn't you just ask me?" He asked, shifting slightly in his seat a little to face her.

"Neutron, "She sighed. Looking around exasperatedly she pulled her knees up to her chest, her paper now clenched in a tight fist around her hand.

'

"If I had asked you to be my partner, would you seriously have said yes?"

Jimmy looked at her, sitting snugly only a few feet away from him, her bangs curling lightly around her face, her bright green eyes, guarded and impatient—but full of fear. A year ago, maybe a month ago, he would have said no. Thought she was playing some kind of prank on him, a sick joke. But now—now every part of him answered truthfully, "Yeah, I think, I think I would have."

Anxiety, and _cold terror_ flooded him as he watched her face transform from surprise, to shock to absolute sadness. Unclenching her knees from her chest, she dropped her paper to the floor, stood and began to pace quickly in front of him.

"Vortex?" He spoke carefully, hoping a calm demeanor might get her attention. But she held her hand up, silencing him **and for once** he obeyed. Silently he watched her wear a path through the cement.

XXXX

_"Yeah, I think, I think I would have."_

_What in the hell does that mean? _She thought desperately as she strode back and forth in front of the futon, in Neutron's lab—still not entirely sure how she'd ended up there in the first place.

_"Vortex?"_ His voice breaking through the beginnings of her near hysteria—but not now, no now she needed to figure out how to get out of this entire mess. Betty's words echoing through her mind now, as she held her hand up to Jimmy—she needed time to process.

_If he had wanted you, he would have made his move two years ago when you threw yourself at him. _

_Everyone knows no one would make a worse couple than you and Neutron. _

_You're too loud Cindy. You're too oppositional Cindy. You're too intimidating Cindy. _

_ You're too smart, Cindy. _

She stopped pacing and spun on her heel to stare at him.

"Cindy—" He tried again even softer this time but she interrupted him, and blurted out that one thing she'd wanted to know more than why he wrote on Whitman, or made her his partner at all.

"Why didn't you ever ask me out?

XXXXX

_ What the hell_

Of all the things—phrases, statements, outrages to come out of Cindy Vortex's mouth, this was the one Jimmy Neutron had been least suspecting. In fact, he wasn't suspecting it at all. But now he had a rather angry looking girl standing in the middle of his lab—expecting some kind of answer.

"_Why didn't you ever ask me out?"_

He looked down at his hands now resting on his knees, and up into her anxious face and had no choice but to tell her the truth.

"I wanted too, Cindy. Believe me…I really did. There was always just something that always came up and—"

"And you didn't have five minutes to have a conversation with me, someone you've known for years Jimmy? Don't you think you owed me that?"

He watched her valiantly swipe at her eyes, desperate to hide any weakness from him.

"Whatever." She huffed. "It's not—that doesn't matter now. That's not what I'm here for anyway… obviously. We should get to our actual assignment—"

"Wait." He interrupted her. She stopped moving altogether but he motioned for her to return to the couch beside him. She moved slowly, and he was grateful. He wasn't sure what he was going to say but…he felt this need this, undeniable urge to continue this conversation.

When she sat on the futon, a little farther away than the first time, Jimmy slid over and lightly grasped her hand.

"What are you doing?" She hissed and ripped her hand out of his grasp.

"I was trying to hold your hand Vortex." He replied using the tone he'd adopted when he was hiding his temper from her.

"And why would you think I'd want you, to hold my hand? In fact all day long, you've been making assumptions, decisions,_ partnerships_ for me. Don't you think I deserve to know what exactly your game here is Jimmy?"

_Ouch._

"Cindy—I'm sorry if my actions today in anyway were out of line. I just assumed since you were here, you… approved".

She had the decency to looked shock for a moment but returned her normal fierceness with gusto.

She sat crisscross across the futon cushion digging into her backpack for her novel. She'd slipped her long blonde hair back into a low pony when they were arguing. It swung in front of her face and he caught the scent of jasmine once again. The light from one of his generators, was bathing the room in a soft glow, and maybe it was because of this and many other reasons that he blurted out:

"I'm worried about you."

She stopped, turning with her books in her lap she stared at him.

"Why, on earth would you be worried about me?"

"Cut the bull shit, you know why."

_Well holy shit_ he thought, he wasn't entirely sure _where that_ had come from, but he knew with absolute certainty he meant it. Whatever game Cindy thought he was playing—he didn't want to play it.

When she didn't answer he continued; "you've been different lately."

Her eyes cut across him and in his younger days he'd have flinched away from such a "Vortex" glare but now, he didn't back down.

"Quieter."

"Aren't we always telling each other to shut up?" She snapped, now toying with the spine on her notebook.

"Be serious please." He leaned forward slightly, to reach out and perhaps touch her but stopped himself. She hadn't been receptive before, and while something was clearly bothering her he hadn't a clue where to start.

"Who said I wasn't serious?"

"Then will you answer a question for me?" He asked, feeling like he already knew the answer.

"Are you going to ask it anyway?" She asked back but he noted her tone had far _less _venom.

"Not if you really don't want me too."

She sighed. Without looking at him, she shrugged and then braced herself as if she was expecting a verbal lashing rather than a simple question.

"That. That right there." He pointed at her now.

"What?" She turned fully towards him now, trying to unfold herself from the accordion knot she'd transformed into.

As he watched her, he felt his heart clench. There was no big realization. He'd always known why he'd been "studying" her these past few weeks. He'd kept it hidden deep down, somewhere near where he'd thrown the box and the key that housed all of his "Cindy feelings." And watching her right now, he didn't care if she ever knew how he felt. All he wanted to do was help her, his friend who seemed to be struggling with a weight that she didn't need to carry. Before he could stop himself the speech he hadn't meant to give, came rushing out.

"Your behavior lately, it's been downright odd. You practically cower in the hallway; you hide in the lunchroom. You don't raise your hand in classes anymore. Any of them! You've been wasting your time on things like the dance committee when we both know you hate all of that…_nonsense_! "He stopped to take a breath and glance at her from the corner of his eye.

He had her full attention. Her mouth was slightly open, her brilliant jade eyes were light for the first time in ages, and he continued.

"You've been spending a lot of time with Betty Quinlan."

At that she visibly flinched. And anger that Jimmy didn't know he felt, or _had _bubbled to the surface. But before he could get anything else out, she interrupted him, sounding more like _Cindy _than in a **very** long time. "Wasn't there supposed to be a question somewhere in there genius?"

"Yes." He said, looking at her. Taking a deep breath he asked.

"What's going on Cindy?"


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hey to all of you still reading this story sorry for the hiatus! Hopefully this answers some unsolved questions some of you may be having! Warning in this chapter for swears, kissing and normal teenage angst and stupidity.

"_What's going on Cindy?"_

She let his question hang there in silence between the two of them, until she could practically feel the impatience rolling off of him.

"She's part of dance committee, so we've just been spending more time together." She said finally. In all actuality it _wasn't a lie_.

"But you said, you don't like anyone from dance committee, not to mention the fact that, you being on dance committee is a total waste of academic—" He started but she cut him off.

"Since when do you care?" She sighed out exasperatedly. He was making this way more difficult than he had too. _Per usual_.

"I've always cared," he shot back. "It's not my fault if you haven't been paying attention lately!" This time it was his turn to get up and pace the futon in front of them.

"What do you mean?" She asked carefully, watching him warily. It had been a long time since she'd seen him like this—he was almost demented looking. His hair sticking out at all different angles, his bright blue eyes, dancing chaotically. His hands, which were usually so calm, measured and steady, were shaking. In all honesty, it scared her.

Without meaning too, she found herself propelled from her seat on his futon. She stood directly in the path he'd taken up after she'd tried wearing a hole in the floor. Reaching out, she grabbed one of his trembling hands and held it in her two.

"Jimmy." She said quietly, "there's something I—something I'm supposed to do, something I have to tell—" But she couldn't finish her thought.

He'd reached out with his free hand and tucked a stray strand falling from her hastily pulled back hair. Instinctually she closed her eyes, and he took the moment to gently lay his palm across her cheek.

She didn't realize she was crying until she felt him gently wiping the moisture off her face. She opened her mouth to protest but was stunned into silence, by his facial expression. He looked sad and lost, as though he hurt, simply because she did. But there was more there, more in his face that even if she wanted to she couldn't deny.

"On the island"—she started barley a whisper at first but gaining strength as she watched his face relax, and his eyes widen. "Do you remember, how before I knew how dire our situation was—I was really worried about being late for my piano lesson?"

The corners of his mouth turned up as he replied "And the inevitable probability of faded clothing"

"Yes—exactly. My—mother hasn't changed much believe it or not. She's always insisting I join academic and co-ed extra curricular activities. You know…" she trailed off. "Always trying to find me some extra edge."

He nodded, following along. He watched her slowly detach their hands as she spoke. She began wringing them together.

"Cindy—" he spoke slowly. "Where is this going?"

"She kind of pushed me into dance committee, not just because it's another bullet point on a resume, but her boss's daughter is our formal chairman."

"Betty?"

"No, no, not Betty. She's just a part of the committee. An unfortunate snag in the details."

He nodded. And when she said nothing he tried again.

"So why have you been hanging out with her—all of them?"

She looked at him, really not sure how to respond. How could she answer that for him, when she certainly couldn't answer it for herself?

"It's just sort of happened. A lot of things have just sort of happened…" When just before she had no idea how she was going to respond now she couldn't stop running her mouth—"And I—they—well she…"

"Vortex!" He finally snapped. "What in Newton's name is the matter with you?" His friendly demeanor was gone. His blue eyes flashed as he caught himself, from cursing her out, _she was sure_.

"Please"—he breathed out, in a sigh of utter exhaustion. "Just tell me."

"She likes you. Betty Quinlan likes you."

XXXXXXX

He stared at her for a beat and then two, waiting for her to continue. _Did she think he didn't know that? _

Did she really think he hadn't noticed the special attention Betty had been paying him, the over done pleasantries in the hallway, the flirtatious smiles she sent across the cafeteria, the way she'd tried to causally lay her hand on his forearm when she brushed by him in the lunch line.

_Maybe_ the small voice in charge of the "Vortex Reasoning" part of his brain whispered, _she didn't_. And with that, Jimmy felt the realization that he'd been waiting for, the one he'd been pondering just inside his car—come crashing down around him.

Not only did Cindy _not_ know that he was aware that Betty Quinlan liked him—but she thought he might still have feelings for her? So then Cindy—was still utterly and completely in the dark.

And with that Jimmy laughed. He laughed so hard that tears came to his eyes and he had to pull a **very **alarmed and very quiet Cindy along with him to sit back on the couch. After a few more chuckles he was able to get a hold of himself and take in his stony faced partner.

"Good for Betty Quinlan."

"That's what you have to say?" She asked finally coming out of her stupor to look exasperated with him. "You just laughed like…well kind of like a total psychopath just now—I was hoping you might be happy?"

"Were you really hoping I'd be happy about that?" He asked carefully watching her facial ticks.

"Well like I said—you were laughing."

God was she trying to be obtuse? Or was she simply not seeing it? Or Jimmy thought sadly does she _not want to_? No, no it was because—it was because of their last kiss, and his inability to follow through, _where he inevitably lost her_.

He turned to find her uncomfortably staring at him, as though she did fear he'd lost his mind. _Don't lose her again. _ It was a simple thought, but it rocked him to his very core.

"Cindy," he asked slowly. "Were you supposed to try and get me to… date Betty Quinlan?"

Looking down at her Converse she scuffed her toes together.

"Yeah that might have been a thing." She admitted still not looking at him.

"Is it still?" _Don't lose her again_. His mind echoed.

"No, of course not, you clearly don't like"—but before Cindy could even finish her thought his mouth was on hers.

He kissed her like he feared she truly would disappear any moment, and he reasoned with himself, _that could be true. _He hadn't exactly stopped to ask her permission on the matter.

She tasted like vanilla, and strawberries and a hint of spearmint gum he'd seen her pop in her mouth in their second to last period. His overly pubescent mind had gone down a dark road—_what would it be like to taste that gum in her mouth with his lips on hers? _ And here was, actually doing it! Well, he was for about another three seconds.

She pulled away, at first with a small smile on her face, her eyes dancing in a way that dare he say it made Jimmy feel absolutely giddy. But then the smile faded and her eyes darkened as she drifted away from him.

XXXXX

"_No, of course not, you clearly don't like"—_and just like that he was kissing her. Really kissing her.

This went so far past their gentle, chaste past moment, the birthday peck included. Cindy felt the desperation pouring from his mouth to hers, his frantic need for connection, and their connection.

But Cindy could hardly even relish what he tasted like (Coke, and Mentos, she'd seen him pop into his mouth earlier walking to last period.) No, she could barley enjoy the moment when her heart was about to bust from her chest, as her lungs refused to work and her brain began to scream DANGER in flashing neon. So she pulled away, not because every nerve ending in her didn't sing a chorus of Hallelujah, but because she still had to make him somehow understand. She opened her mouth, but he beat her to it.

"I've been waiting to do that for three years." He said, unabashedly, while trying to catch her eye.

_Why didn't you? Why didn't you sit next to me years ago? Why didn't you ask me to formal, spring fling, even to hang out with you? _ She wanted to scream at him.

"_Because"_ she heard Betty's voice echo in her mind like a leaky faucet that never fully shut off. _"If he wanted you, he'd have made any effort to get you."_

"Vortex?" He called quietly, no doubt trying to bring her out of her sullen fog.

"So why kiss me now?" She found herself asking, the butterflies in her stomach becoming a think flock against her beating rib cage. "If you've wanted too for all this time, then—"she trailed off. "You don't need to kiss me to prove you aren't into Betty Quinlan alright?"

"Whoa—" Jimmy cried out, once again raising his hands in the symbol of surrender. "That's not at all why I kissed you!" He exclaimed looking at her as if she'd told him she'd hit her head and suddenly couldn't remember even the first six digits of Pi.

"I kissed you because I like you, I like you Cindy!"

XXXXX

_Shit. Fuck. Shit fuck. _

He'd actually said it. Out loud. To her.

Of course he'd _known_ this. Even though he claimed that box buried deep within him that harbored all feeling related to her had been locked up tight, he'd recently learned that **nothing **ever stays buried. He was about to retract his statement, fake temporary insanity, anything to get her to forgive and forget his transgression when he saw the smile appear again, timid but there.

"You like me?"

"Yes." He answered immediately. "I have… for a long time."

"Do you?" He swallowed; she always made him so nervous, "Do you maybe, have you thought about whether you have feelings for me?" He finally managed to gag out.

"Jimmy." She said, this time so quietly that he had to lean closer to hear her (not that he minded one bit) "This isn't about me."

"Well of course it's about you!" He all but scoffed at her. "How could it be about anyone other than you—" but before he could finish she was interrupting him.

"Betty asked me to try and get the two of YOU together not ME and you!"

"So what?" He yelled back. Both of them standing now, subconsciously leaning into one another's personal space bubble.

"So! Didn't you listen to a word I said before? If I don't do what Betty says, I wont fit in on the committee, and then Betty will get Juliana to kick me off…" She was struggling to catch her breath now, panic filling her face and Jimmy naturally held out his hands to steady her waist.

_God this feels right. _Gently, he pulled her towards him, not quite hugging her but enough to calm her shaking form. It was then that his treacherous brain began to hatch a plan.

"Cindy?" He asked, watching her beautiful jade eyes swim with tears that refused to fall. "You said you had to get me to go out with Betty right?" She nodded solemnly and he continued.

"Well, what if it was just one date?"

XXXXX

"_Just one date"_ Cindy thought. She was sure that wasn't what Quinlan had in mind. But no one could certainly _force_ Jimmy to date her.

"I guess…then I'd be doing what Julianne asked of me." She replied, watching his brilliant eyes dance.

_God she was in love with him. And was he still holding her waist?_

"Then I will go on a date with Betty Quinlan." He answered, "On one condition."

"And what's that?" She asked fear creeping into her chest, the jealousy monster brewing and the self-esteem demon cackling.

"I get to take you out first." He said simply.

_This wasn't part of the plan…_Not only would Betty be super pissed but she was sure her heart couldn't take finally getting a date with Neutron only to have her last bit of hope ripped from her—when he undoubtly chose Quinlan over her anyway.

"That's my condition, my friend take it or leave it." He finally said. Moving away from her to settle himself on the arm of the laboratory couch smirking as he did so.

_He has no idea, the emotional toll he's putting me through_. _To him this is all just some game._

"Fine." She finally spat out, turning on her heel as she did so grabbing her bag and her stupid English class work that had gotten here and alone in the first place.

"Excellent." She could hear his smug tone with her back turned as she began to head towards the lab's far exit. "So I'll pick you up tomorrow then, 6?"

"Tomorrow?!" She squeaked turning from the air chute to see him suddenly standing quite close behind her.

"Absolutely," he all but whispered as he leaned forward and tucked her bangs behind her ear in a way that felt way too intimate than it should.

"We wouldn't want to keep Betty waiting right?" As he quickly pressed the Shute lift and Cindy went flying upwards and out of the truly evil geniuses lair.


End file.
